


Thoughts

by the_morgue



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Based on "A Private Little War", Episode Related, F/M, Hurt Spock, Injury, Major Character Injury, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Touching, Unrequited Love, Vulcan Biology, Vulcan Kisses, Worry, episode based
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 13:11:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8534419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_morgue/pseuds/the_morgue
Summary: Based on the scene from "A Private Little War"Spock's conscious thoughts whilst Christine holds his hand.





	

Contrary to what some may believe, having a conscious mind in the shell of an unconscious body was not all that disquieting. His Vulcan half deflects the pain, helping him to channel his body's natural healing capabilities. Of course he was oblivious to most of the noise passing back and forth. Well, for the most part anyhow. He had taken the time to really hear the Vulcan specialist Mccoy had assigned him, as well as the captain whist he still lingered. He could only attempt to keep his mind off of just how long he and Leonard had been absent. 

However there was one other constant in his current state of existence. No matter how silent she became, he could still smell her sweet perfume in the air at all times. As if she were a rose at full bloom set upon his bedside. Sometimes it grew fainter as she tended to her duties, however Spock was immediately able to approximate her return. 

It had surprisingly brought back oddly soothing memories of how she smelt the day she expressed her feelings for him. 

Spock found a corner of his mind beginning to divert, which proved to destabilize his readings somewhat. Of course he attempts to will the thoughts away, though it seems to only coax the Vulcan into a form of daydreaming that rendered him powerless to the invasion of gently flaring nostrils. 

He pictures Nurse Chapel on that day. Wetness illuminating her large irises, as he noticed were a grey sort of blue. It was funny how he now recalled their sparkle, and the longing in her expression caused his chest to tighten. How he wished he could have known at the time, despite the despair he was in. The influence had extracted both of their emotions with little room for Spock to see past how overwhelmed he had become. 

But he had already came to these conclusions, had he not ? Spock recalled that day often, in fact. The weight of his surfacing emotions. His tears. It wasn't logical to dwell, although sometimes it was as if he could still feel the touch of her hands enclosing his own. Like a pleasant sort of sting that flutters against sensitive nerves. 

This, was one of those times. 

There was a selfishness within him that begged to know whether or not she still held onto those feelings. If she stood over his bed now, filled with worry that he may never awaken. It was incredibly foolish, he knew. Despite, the Vulcan was unable to shake those multiplying thoughts from his fighting mind. His only weapon against what currently threatened his life. 

Then as he began to breathe a little deeper, it seemed silly that even an action such as this could change the rate of the overhead beeping. It's gradual, but eventually it returns to the slow, meticulous readings that would no doubt evoke concern in anyone but the specialist. 

He could even smell the salty aroma of Chapel's thin sweat. 

Slowly then, fingers reached down to brush against his own that lay dormant against the thin, padded mattress. It threatened his eyes to open right then and there, however he knew it could carry detrimental consequences. 

The familiar sting returned in a much more prominent fashion, making it very hard to keep his hand limp as she awkwardly pulled it up and into her delicate grasp. 

So she was worried about him. 

A realization that should have left him to rest and rid him of these silly hypotheticals. Sadly, his human DNA held other priorities. 

It was confusion that washed over him as the muscles in his face begin to stir in slight discomfort. He decided to allow himself a moment of intimacy in her caring. In her love. A moment he only indulges in given the unlikelihood of this ever being uncovered. For all he knew, the nurse was under the impression that he remained unconscious.

But it ended so soon. A tragedy formed behind his eyelids as the abrupt, albeit gentle drop of his hand brought on an invisible shiver to Spock's form. 

Someone had interrupted them. That much was clear from the shuffle of footsteps. His doctor, obviously. He had missed the sound of Sickbay's doors sliding forth in the tenderness Christine had been providing, realizing a heaviness once apparent that it had been ceased indefinitely. It seemed as if Miss Chapel had earned her way back into his thoughts. 

Permanently


End file.
